


A Cosmic Mistake

by Zootopon



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Panic Attacks, hugs are needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15186278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zootopon/pseuds/Zootopon
Summary: Ever since his resurrection and his dip into the Lazarus Pit, Jason has been living on borrowed time. When he needs a family the most, he realizes that it was always there waiting for him.





	A Cosmic Mistake

The first incident happened on an average Thursday night. Hood was running across rooftops going back to one of his hideouts after a drug bust. The smell of iron filled his helmet. Curious as he had not sustained any head injuries that night, he removed his helmet laying it beside him as he sat on the edge, legs dangling over. Using his phones camera as a handheld mirror he noticed a small stream of blood running from his nose. At the time, he had simply written it off as an aggravated nose injury he’d received earlier that day whilst sparing with the brat.

The second was different.  He was browsing for new books at a local store two block down from his nearest safehouse. The day leading up to the moment was uneventful, he hadn't gone for a run, didn't have a nightmare the previous night and did not pass anything that would trigger his PTSD but his heart skipped a beat, and not in the romantic sense. Whilst casually flicking through the outline for a book that caught his fancy, he felt his heart stop for the briefest of moments and restart immediately afterwards.

As time went by these incidents began to occur more and more often. Shortness of breath, old scars reopening and the loss of muscle mass. Eventually he had to get checked deciding a random general practitioner was the best option. He wouldn't go to the cave, not after what the prick Bruce did a couple months ago and he chose not to go the Leslie's clinic, not when she was constantly busy providing emergency treatment for those in Crime Alley.

“I'm sorry Mr. Peters but we cannot find the source of your troubles.” Said his GP. “It's a bizarre case as most young males with your level of fitness, their cells are constantly regenerating but instead your cell production has stopped. In some circumstances they are dying.”

“So what are you saying doc, that I have Benjamin Button Disease?”

“No. What I'm saying is your body isn't regressing, it’s as if it simply decided to stop. You stated that you're a heavy smoker but there are no signs of lung cancer. Nothing. Not even the common cold.” He began to scribble something on a piece of paper handing it to Jason. “I recommend that you visit this specialist clinic to run further tests on your condition.”

He received it apprehensively. “Thanks doc, I'll try.”

He didn't. He knew what was happening to his body. Hell, he's known for years that this would finally happen. Whatever cosmic power that to brought him back to life decided, after so many years, to fix this mistake.

 _A mistake_. He thought. _Even the goddamn universe thinks I'm a mistake._

_Should I tell someone? Would anyone even care if I disappeared?_

Bruce wouldn't. He made that abso-fucking-lutely clear. His so-called brothers might not. Even though they were getting closer, they still held him out at arm’s length wondering when he would snap and start killing again. He couldn't remember the last time they had hung out. It was always for a mission. He was just another soldier for them, an extra set of hands. The only one that genuinely cared would be his grandpa, Alfred. The old butler was always there for him. Despite his mistakes, despite who he is, Alfred always saw the best in him, he had always loved him. _God bless that man._

So granted, it was no surprise that he skipped that days patrol opting for a night to reacquaint himself with his favourite bottle of whiskey and Cuban cigars. At this point worrying about lung cancer and kidney failure was the least of his problems.

As the night progresses old thoughts that he had moved on from came rushing back and all of the sudden the receiving end of his pistol seemed awfully tempting. However, just like 5 years ago he reminded himself of who he was. A fighter. His entire life he had to fight, even when he returned he kept fighting. If he was going to die, he would die pursuing a life that he wanted, a life that he had missed out on.

Even though he was a son of Gotham, who had bled and cried for this city, he was no son of Bruce Wayne, of the Batman. He had to leave. A fresh start, where he can die on his own terms, peacefully. Over the next week, sightings of the Red Hood became less frequent, he cleared out all of his safe houses and gave away the rest of his money that he had earned during his time as a crime lord to the corner girls of Crime Alley and the orphaned street kids. For his so-called family he left two presents for them.

The first was a small package containing the first edition copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ addressed to one Alfred Pennyworth. The first book that he ever read within the manor, the first book that he had ever read with Alfred. The second gift, although it could barely be considered a gift, was laid across the coffee table in his, now stripped bare, favourite safe house. On it, neatly folded was his Red Hood gear with his signature helmet laying on top. To the side were his favourite dual handguns. A final _fuck you_ and _goodbye_.

After hitching a ride on 3 planes, stowing away on 2 boats and stealing a motorbike he had finally managed to make his way into a small Spanish town bordering its neighbour, Portugal. His Ma, Catherine Todd, and her family were of Spanish heritage. He wanted to honour his mother in a town that wasn’t Gotham, a way that didn’t involve blood and pain, proving to the world and most importantly to himself that this quiet life is what he wanted, what he had always fought for, what he deserved.

Life was…good. Without the constant need to dress up every night, his thirst for knowledge grew. It started with a provisional law course at the local community college until he decided that wasn’t enough, enrolling himself into English Literature and Pre-Med at a university in Madrid. Every second day he would have a day trip into the city to learn, experience new sights and occasionally go on some blind date that his neighbour had set him up with.

He was a nervous wreck every time he tried the dating scene, he had slept with women before, was known within the hero and anti-hero community as a snarky flirter, but he had never really dated. His time as a street rat, as Robin, as a corpse and as Red Hood never really allowed him to experience the struggles of teenage hormonal connection. He was still the attentive and caring Jason Todd, but he had never learned how to hold hands in the dark, never learned the difference between lust and attraction, never learned when was the right time to kiss a girl as they stood in front of her apartment door.

He was happy. What most young men his age would deem normal, he felt like he was living a dream. Everything he had missed out on was there waiting for him to explore, to learn and to love.

But reality, being the Dick Grayson that it was, reminded him why he was here. The incidents become worse, more painful. There were days he couldn’t leave his house after coughing up blood or when his lungs decided to stop functioning for short periods of time. His old mental traumas didn’t help, nightmares and panic attacks flared up, the whispers of the pit telling him he’ll die alone again, unloved.

 

~

 

“Call Batman. He’s awake.” A voice called out.

White ceiling, bright lights, the smell of disinfectant, the rigidness of a hospital bed. “Wha-Where am I?”

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. “Its alright little one. You’re safe, I found you collapsed on a road and brought you back to the watchtower.” It took a moment until his eyes focused turning his head at the blurry figure to his left. Diana Prince, AKA Wonder Woman, his hero. On any other day, he would have been ecstatic but his head could only focus on the words _Batman_ and _Watchtower._

His body sprung up. “Nonononono, I shouldn’t be here.” His heart was racing, telling him to move, but Diana simply pushed him down with concern written on her face. “Please…Diana, let me go.” He begged. “I’ll do what you want, any prison you want. Just not here, not with Batman.”

Her heart ached. This sweet child she once knew, the child that yearned for affection and acceptance believed she would want to imprison him. He was begging her to help him escape his father. Concern turned to rage, slowly building up wondering what other hells he has experienced, she wondered just how far Bruce had pushed him to break like this.

With a low, steely voice she asked. “What did he do, my child?”

Before he could answer the med-bay doors swung open revealing the entire bat clan. She could feel the fear and hate emitting off Jason, his eyes darted around the room looking for an escape route. _What happened to you?_ She thought.

“Jason. Where the hell have - ” A fist to his face cut him off, followed by a frantic Jason running for his life. It had been years since Jason had ever stepped foot in the Watchtower, he hoped that it hadn’t changed too much as he ran towards the Zeta Tubes only to be tackled a few feet away from salvation.

“Get the fuck off me, old man.” He said, as he desperately tried to struggle out of the hold Batman had him on. The commotion caught the interest of all the JL members present as they watched the infamous Red Hood being manhandled. They all giggled and laughed at his expense. Many of them had fought the man, all of them still held grudges. The laughing stopped when they saw him crying blood.

“Jason?” Bruce said, startled before he was ripped off by Diana.

“What did you do to him?” She practically screamed, before running up to Jason, cradling him in her arms as he had a panic attack.

“Arkham. Blackgate. Iron Heights. The goddamn Suicide Squad. Anywhere you want. Just get me away from him.” He said, forcing out the words. Blood was still dripping out, his white shirt becoming a crimson red.

“What did you do?” She roared at Batman, again. The rest of the clan finally showed up, shocked at the scene in front of them.

“Littlewing?” Dick said reaching out.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” He screamed, startling many heroes. Dick snapped his hand back.

“Jay…what’s wrong? Just talk to us. We can fix this…together.” A soft voice spoke across the silent room, Bruce’s voice.

“You can’t fix me.” He snapped.

“We can…Just trust us…trust me. Come home.”

“I AM GOING HOME. 6 FEET UNDER.” Everyone present visibly stiffened. “I’m a glorified zombie. All of you have thought the same thing, that I’m a monster, an unknown variable. A mistake.” He hissed out. “And now, the universe or whatever fucked up higher power has decided to remedy that.”

“You’re dying?” Dick spoke up, alarmed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why? Because we’re not family. For all the years that I came back, not once have I ever been invited into the Manor. It was always the cave.” He spat out. “It was always for a mission. I’m just a soldier to you. An expendable Robin. Tell me, when you noticed I was gone, was it because you were checking up on me or was it for another mission?”

“Jaylad. I never invited you because I didn’t need to. It’s your home. You’re my son.”

“Son? How many times have I listened to that lie?” Venom dripping out of his words. “To think I trusted you, again and again. Tell them. Tell everyone here what you really think of me. Tell them when you lied to me and dragged me to the Madgala Valley. To the place of my death, the worst place in the world just to throw me under the bus to bring Damian back. Tell them about the time you slit my fucking throat in order to save the Joker…TELL THEM.”

Diana was livid. If she wasn’t holding Jason in her arms, she would have been strangling the so-called father with all her might. “He did what?” Speaking through clenched teeth.

“I thought…I wanted my son back and I thought, after everything, you would do anything to bring him back as well.”

“Are you seriously trying to put the blame on me? You thought that I have some kind of imaginary power that brings me back? That I chose to wake up in my coffin? That I chose to walk around Gotham brain dead? I was finally back together with my Ma…and even that was taken away from me.” His voice hitched. Actual tears began to mix with those of blood. “You should be happy. Now you can go back to loving the memory of the dead Robin without being disgusted at the monster that wears his face…At least death accepted me more than you ever have.”

Heroes began to slowly leave, ashamed of their childlike behaviour and shocked at discovering details about Jason’s second life. “I left because there was nothing for me in Gotham. I left so I could have a life. The life I wanted. I wanted to live on my own terms so I could die on my own terms.” He said as he leaned in closer to Diana, hugging her tighter, hoping the pain would go away.

Diana kept cradling Jason in her arms, unable to hold back her owns tears. A soft, tearful voice spoke to her. “Aunt D…please let me go. I can’t do this anymore.”

She slowly nodded, trying to regain composure. Standing up, she guided the young man to a zeta tube. After watching him leave, with a twist of her foot she launched herself at Batman. The sickening noise of broken cartilage echoed the control room, blood spraying out of his nose. Without a word, she left, leaving a broken family behind.

 

~

 

It had been a few days since the Watchtower incident, Diana and a few of the main members of the Justice League had stayed clear of Batman, unable to trust his judgement again. In addition, she had kept Jason’s whereabouts a secret, knowing the Waynes do not deserve a third chance with their wayward son/brother.

She began to visit him.

It broke her heart the first time when he still believed she was there to arrest him. With time, he became less wary, more trusting towards the amazon princess.

Her heart grew with pride as she watched what he had achieved with his limited time. Top of his class achieving the highest honour for English Literature and medical studies, loved by children as he volunteered at orphanages and looked after those less fortunate during their walks.

She started staying overnight at his moderately sized apartment, drinking wine as she watched him cook recipes Alfred had taught him. He held her close whenever they watched a movie, trying to catch up on years of missing body contact. She helped further his knowledge of ancient Greek as they talked for hours about myths and legends in her mother tongue. With time he began to regard her as a mother, her heart leaped the first time he called her ‘Mom’. She cherished that bond.

Of course, there were the bad days.

Days where she came to his home, opening the doors to her barely breathing son. The nights where his screams woke her up from slumber, trying her best to calm him down whispering sweet nothings in his ear. There was even a moment when she had returned to the watchtower only to see Jason huddled in a corner with bags of darkness underneath his eyes waiting for her. No one bothered her that day, some even helped keep the bats away from her son.

 

 ~

 

“How is he?” Batman asked one day.

She stared at him wondering what he was up to. “He’s still deteriorating.” She said simply.

“I wish to see him.” With a tone that did not suggest it was a request. It infuriated her that he believed she would simply hand over her son to the failure that calls himself ‘his father’.

“He does not wish to see you.” She said through clenched teeth, trying to keep her composure.

“He is my son.” He growled back. “What right do you have to deny that?”

“BECAUSE I’M HIS MOTHER.” She yelled. Batman was obviously taken aback by the statement. “I have the right because you threw away any resemblance of being a father to him the moment you pushed him away, making him believe his estranged birth mother was a better option than you. I have the right because you kept throwing it away since the very day he came back.” Her eyes began to cloud with red. “I have the right because everyday I have to remind him that I love him. Because he believes no one does. Because he believes he’s not worth it.”

It infuriated her even more as he just stood there doing nothing. He didn’t move, try to deny it, not even change from his normal batglare. Nothing.

It didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter how much money he threw around hoping to buy a ticket to Jason’s heart. It didn’t matter that some legal document says so. He was not Jason’s father.

Not anymore.

The months went by as she watched her son slowly die, he began to invite guests. People he still trusted. People he still loved. The first was of course his grandfather, Alfred. It was quite an emotional day as she saw the spark of life shine in her son’s eyes as Alfred made his way into his apartment with bags of groceries in his hand. She watched as the two conversed about anything and everything; books, musicals, his latest blind date. Anything. It confused her how Bruce had earned the loyalty and devotion of such a kind and caring old soul. She laughed and cooed as Alfred told her about her son’s antics during his time as Robin, learning that he was still the gentle, empathetic kind boy that he was today. How anyone could believe he was a monster was beyond her.

The second guest wasn’t exactly invited. There she was, Talia al Ghul - the Demon Princess and international criminal, standing at the entrance holding a gift basket. During her time with Jason she had learned that Talia was also someone Jason considered as a mother. Although unconventional, she had healed him the best she could and provided him with training.

What was supposed to be a gift for Bruce, turned into curiosity and then become affection. Despite their differences, Jason loved both of them and an unspoken truce between the two was formed.

Finally, the Outlaws arrived. Roy, Kori, Artemis and Bizarro came by bearing gifts and giving almost bone crushing hugs. Despite already knowing Artemis, they were the most unorthodox group of people Diana had ever seen, but she quickly understood why Jason was so affectionate towards them. They all represented a different part of Jason’s life. Roy was the childhood friend that had been with him through thick and thin. Kori represented the start of a new life and change in direction when he established the Outlaws. Her sister, Artemis, with her stubborn and harsh exterior, was his ability to understand, help and befriend others and Bizarro was the life Jason could have had.

A father’s life.

He had raised the clone from the moment it was ‘born’ and taught him that no matter what the world expects from you, you fight for what you believe is right.

The incidents had gotten worse making Diana move him to Themyscira after convincing the gods to make an exception for her son, allowing Jason to live with her sisters. A paradise home of beauty for his final moments and safety away from Batman. Her sisters understood her intentions, they saw the love the two had for each other and in turn they loved him as well.

Jason had become part of a larger family.

 

~

 

“Hey mom?” Jason asked on his bed.

“Yes Jason?”

“Promise me you’ll cremate me. I can’t come back again. Not like last time. I can’t handle it again.” He begged, she nodded. “Look out for me, mom.” She was confused by those words, but still nodded.

“I’m gonna go now mom…I love you.” He said with a sense of peace.

“I love you too, little one.” She choked out, unable to let her son go.

The ceremony was almost unbearable for the mother. She had lowered her son onto the pile of wood and lit the match watching the small spark begin to burn brightly.

Just like her son.

The island of warriors cried for their nephew. They honoured the orphan, the fighter, the forgotten son, praying that Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, would look after him where they could not.

His close friends and family attended. Roy, Kori and Biz held each other as they cried for their brother-in-arms and father. Artemis cried differently, her fist was clenched tight, blood dripping. Alfred, one of the most composed individual on the planet failed to keep back his tears. No parent should ever have a child die before them, no grandparent should ever bury a grandson twice.

Talia, just like Diana, wailed for her lost son.

A mother’s cry.

It was two weeks after his death, Diana finally understood his cryptic message. She was window shopping a local bookstore near her apartment, a past time she used to do with Jason back in Spain, following him around watching him glee with excitement over the new books he bought. A poster had caught her attention depicting a bird with broken wings.

“Excuse me.” She said to clerk. “Could you tell me more about this book?”

“Ah. _Memoirs of a Broken Bird_. This just came out a couple days ago. The author is rather new in the industry which is odd having this level of attention. Apparently, rumour has it that some influential women, who came from wealth, funded the entire endeavour.” The clerk explained.

“What’s the authors name?”

“Jason Head Prince.”

 

~

 

She ran home with the first copy she could get her hands on. Sitting down hoping her heartbeat simmers, hands shaking as she opens her son’s creation.

_To the mothers that shaped my life._

_I love you, mom._

**Author's Note:**

> I only just joined and this is the first fanfic I've ever written so I hope you enjoy. Most of my work will be what if scenarios of Jason Todd that haven't been explored by other creators.


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